Barton County democrat. [volume] (Great Bend, Kan.) 1885-1915, 1887-02-03

her face seemed to have given place to
a confiImed depth of Woe, and 1 was
about putting it down on the little table
beside me, when, with a sudden, quick
movement, the lad started up in bed,
and, Notwithstanding all my efforts,
poured forth a voluble series of dis
jointed remarks.
".Mother, mother, motheri' he cried,
1 could not help it, 1 had to go, had
to, YOU know. You know it, don't
YOU, mother? had to-had to-had to.
Let you know? Told you? She
wouldn have let me go. She wouldn't,
you know turning to me. There,
don't hold me, mother, 1 must GOT as /
tried to restrain him and to quietly
force him to lie down. Mother, don t
don't! my country-you taught me
mother, if you'd kiss me just once
right ere-here-where the fire
is. It's burned ever since stole away
that night and he lays his right hand
above the young heart, which had ached,
perhaps, with pangs of inconsistencies as
fierce as those of the wound which
throbs and fortunes his brave young
spirit.
HE stopped a moment and an ex-
preston of physical suffering distorted
the quivering face. This was but
transitory, and was instantly super
seeded by a beautiful, glorious light,
such as might have illumined the fea-
lures of youthful martyrs, suffering for
their convictions.
"'It does ache, mother-but it's for
the cause, you know, and a man should
be able to bear little proudly
Don't mother!-don't look so sorry
your only son? Yes, but you should not
have taught me to sing Maryland, my
Marylandr' You did, you rememberr
cracked, boyish treble, which had not
yet taken on the deeper fullness of man.
hood. An intense twinge of pain cut
short the outburst, and, with an inyol-
untary gasp, the golden head fell back
upon the pillow, a gray shadow took
the place Of the feverish flush, and set
tied with awful significance upon the
now calm features. He lay thus, his
labored breathing the only sound audi
BILE in the room. The white moonbeams
shining on the still, grave face invested
it with pallOr and majesty which
seemed the attributes of death itself.
Had it not been for that heavy respira-
ton, l should have almost believed
that the weary young spirit of the boy
ish soldier had already answered to
Higher Summons. Presently, as l
tcb L
smile steal over his face, like a soft,
summer breeze ripping the still sur
face of a lake, and then the blue eyes
quietly, gently and met mine,
with no feyerish light in them, but
with a peaceful glow, which yet con-
tanned a CLEAN of longing. L saw that
he was quite conscious, and when he
spoke did not attempt to check him, be-
ing too well acquainted with death not
to discern his familiar presence.
"'I am woundedp' 1 bowed aH as
sent. Il remember. The flag was fall
ing from the broken wrist of the bear
CT, and 1 ran forward to save it. Use
less, you seer and the Pickering smile
deepened with realizing sense of his
power1essness. I'm sorry L haven't
done much good, after all, and the
twinge causes him to pause a moment,
while 1 administered a draught. I
tried to prevail upon him to cease talk
ing, but, with a bit of boyish fun he
says:
"'No, I'd rather my tongue would
wear out than rust out. know what's
coming, and he paused again while the
smile quite faded. and look of dread
and uncertainty filled his eyes. He
seemed afraid that L should divine the
unsoldierlike shrinking of his
young soul before the coming of the
lnvincible foe, against whose attack
none shall prevail, and quickly contin-
ued: I'm not really afraid, you know
at least, L think I'm not; only, if
mother could be waiting there for mel
Then the hemesick yearning of the
sorely tried heart quite conquers, and
his eyes fill again with hot tears, which
he hides with his right arm; and 1 see
his lips culver, and hear the trembling
voice cry, with the pathetic lament of
a hurt child, oh, mother, motherr
The struggle that is taking place in
that heroic soul L only can divine. He
says no more until he is quite calm;
then he removes his arm, and in per-
ceptibly weakened tones asks:
Doctor. will you sometime go and
see her? Tell her L was sorry to have
to run away did, you know-but she
would not let me go, and was a man
and so strong! He stops again; his
little remnant of the strength of which
he speaks : fast diminishing, and the
boyish frame with its manly impulses
is growing as weak as a baby's. II
promise him; he gives me his name and
the name of his native town, and thea